


In the Name of Love

by addyrobin



Category: Flock - D&D Campaign
Genre: Grumpy old man has conversation with tree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 05:29:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20755109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addyrobin/pseuds/addyrobin
Summary: Gremm's got a bone to pick with Faoric, and not just for his own sake.





	In the Name of Love

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna start posting some of the things I've written about my D&D character in an attempt to archive them for both me and the other people who play in the game! If that's not your jam, dw--I'm doing this for me :3c
> 
> Gremm and Faoric have known each other a long time but I've never gotten to actually see an interaction between them, so I wanted to imagine what one would be like.

The call comes just as Gremm’s about to start cooking dinner.

_That’s Faoric for yeh,_ he grouses internally, shuffling over to his table to grab the aspect mirror. _No regard fer anyone’s time but his own._

He flips it open and finds a dour-looking Razeiya Faoric in the mirror, not even looking at him in favor of his paperwork. Gremm scoffs, clicking his beak as he slowly eases himself into a seat at the table.

“Am I to assume your meeting with Romazi went as planned?”

“Not even good enough for a hello now, am I? Pah! Good evening to you, too!” Gremm lets out a quiet, irritable squawk, giving Faoric a halfhearted scowl. “It went fine enough. Thought yeh’d’ve called sooner ‘n this, though.”

“I have been otherwise occupied.” The killoren still doesn’t look up - Gremm can somewhat see a mound of paperwork on his desk from this angle. He rolls his eyes at that, grudgingly forgiving Faoric for his more curt than normal attitude in his head. “Do you have anything to report on the matter?”

“Nep. The boy was happy to see me, I told him my bein’ absent weren’t his fault. Seemed distraught anyway, though. Talked himself in circles tryin’ tae justify somethin’ yer wantin’ him to do.” Faoric does give him a look at that, and Gremm only shakes his head in answer. “Didn’t tell me_ what_, ‘fore you look at me all suspicious like that. And a good thing, too. I’ve had enough of yer kaelloren business to last me a lifetime…”

“Hm.” Faoric offers no proper answer to any of his statements (because of course he wouldn’t, it’s Faoric, and the man won’t ever give you an inch more information than he absolutely has to.)

“Hrmph. I’ll have yeh know he _stabbed_ me,” Gremm adds, a bitter edge in his voice. “With YOUR sword. Yae got him givin’ up his scimmy now, do yeh?” When Faoric still doesn’t respond, Gremm sighs. “Beh. Did yeh call me just tae have me talk to myself? ‘Cause I do that plenty bein’ cooped up in here–”

“Would you estimate his abilities were enhanced by Zaiphoros, or by his own merit?” Faoric’s eyes finally flick over to the mirror, and Gremm huffs a little at that.

“Neh. He got his hit fair and square,” Gremm grumbles, feathers puffing up lightly. “Gotten even stronger since I left 'im. Caught 'im off guard at first, but he surprised me…moves with some purpose once he’s gotten focused.” Gremm shakes his head slowly, an odd feeling coming over him as he remembers how distraught the boy was. Nearly in tears when he talked about disappointing his master, not that Faoric would be happy to know that. Still, he’s never really been one to bite his tongue on things like this.

“Yeh got him under yer thumb. His fire ain’t just burning fer his sister anymore, looks like…” Gremm eyes Faoric in the mirror, the killoren already having turned back to his paperwork. “’S plain tae see that he loves yeh. Goin’ on and on about how he’d do_ anythin’ _for yeh…”

“That remains to be seen.” Faoric shuts his eyes for a moment as he makes the cryptic comment, pulling the mirror closer to the center of his desk. “Do you have anything more of relevance to report?”

“Neh. He didn’t stay too long. Seemed paranoid about puttin’ me in danger by bein’ around…” He can sense the conversation is drawing to a close and clicks his beak irritably, determined to make his point before the killoren hangs up on him.

“Yeh just be careful with the lad, Faoric.” Gremm’s tone takes a warning edge. “His sword arm’s strong, but his heart’s weak for yeh and you know it. He’d do a backflip off the carrier and try tae stick the landing long as yer the one askin’ 'im.”

“I am aware.” Faoric’s response is brusque as ever, and Gremm rolls his eyes again as the killoren finally opens his eyes to give him a derisive look. “And I believe _you_ of all people know better than to attempt to dictate my actions?”

“Yeh, yeh. Just don’t go pushin’ too far.” Gremm makes eye contact with the killoren, lowering his voice as he speaks his next words. “Yeh don’t want tae lose another knight already, do yeh?”

Faoric’s eyes gleam at that, but just as he’s about to answer there’s a knock on the door of his office. Gremm raises an eyebrow at the voice he hears.

_“Razeiya? It’s me, sir…”_

“I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this short.” Faoric’s eyes go to the door, and Gremm sees his hand moving to shut the mirror.

“Back already, is he?” Gremm sighs. “Don’t say I didn’t warn yeh, you old–”

Faoric’s side of the aspect mirror clicks dead, and Gremm stares at his reflection in silence for a long moment.

“…always protectin’ everybody but yerself, aren’t yeh sword boy.” Gremm huffs as he shuts his mirror, slowly rising from his chair and shaking his head. He can’t get himself tangled up with worrying now, he’s still got to make dinner and all…

He glances at the scimitar on the wall and tries in vain not to think of Rahmi’s pained expression as he spoke about Faoric.


End file.
